


Blue Scarf

by orangefriday



Category: Smosh
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23058487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangefriday/pseuds/orangefriday
Summary: Anthony's going on a trip. Ian's going to be so damn lonely.
Relationships: Ian Hecox/Anthony Padilla
Kudos: 2





	Blue Scarf

  
“I’ll only be gone two months, tops,” Anthony said, slinging his carry-on over his shoulder. The airport was buzzing; the hum of chatter hovered around their ears and the echoing vastness of the place made Ian feel particularly small in the dense crowd of people.  
  
“You didn’t buy a return ticket,” Ian accused, standing up from his seat. Anthony’s flight was being called in and they would have to make their way to the gate.  
  
“Yeah… well,” Anthony shrugged and started walking. “I figured I might come back earlier. I don’t want to wait another month to get home.”  
  
Ian nodded, following Anthony as they weaved through the crowds of people with their too big suitcases behind them. Each person that shouldered Ian gave him a look of frustration, as if bumping shoulders had caused their lives to become a major inconvenience. Ian didn’t disagree with them though; he felt like his life was headed towards days of imminent dread and boredom. He had almost lost Anthony when he had to stop to let a line of children scurry after their mother. But a hand on his elbow guided him back to his friend.  
  
They got to the moving walkway, catching their breaths and minds away from the chaotic clutter outside of the line of order. Ian almost tripped, but Anthony held him up with another strong grip.  
  
“Careful,” Anthony said and Ian shook him off, mumbling to himself that he was fine. His mood was on borderline depression and he wanted to be anywhere but here, in this airport, going with Anthony just to see him get on a plane that would take him across the world.  
  
He was being a little overdramatic, Ian knew, but seeing how he was so tired from the past two months, filming ahead episodes for Lunchtime and Mailtime and he wasn’t even going to think about all the long hours put into the Smosh episodes. Ian had thought when they finished their impossible list of pre-filmed shows he would be relieved, satisfied, that this feeling of doom would subside. But then the reason for their chaotic scurry moved into the focus of Ian’s mind: Anthony was going to the Philippines to visit his family. And he was going to be gone for a long, _long_ , time.  
  
When they got to the gate, Ian couldn’t help but notice how out of place Anthony was; being one of the few non-Filipino getting their bags checked. He suppressed a chuckle as they glanced at each other, realizing just how unprepared the taller boy would be upon arrival.  
  
“You sure you have to go?” Ian asked at a last attempt, forcing his hands to his side because if he could, Ian would drag Anthony back to their humble little home. Maybe even never let him out of his room. Ian would do crazy things if he let himself.  
  
“Yes, Ian,” Anthony exasperated, “Quit being so annoying.”  
  
Ian frowned. “Am not.”  
  
Anthony rolled his eyes and dug into his bag for his boarding pass. The line was getting longer as more and more people arrived. Ian knew Anthony would wait to be the last, wanting to avoid the chaos and also, as Ian liked to think, to keep Ian sane.  
  
He kept rummaging and looking and Ian wished deeply that Anthony wouldn’t find his pass. But, as he unravelled a blue scarf, the boarding pass was there.  
  
“What the...?” Anthony said, opening the silk in his hands. “Geez, so this is where Leslie’s scarf went.” He handed the garment to Ian. “Would you give it to her?”  
  
Ian made a face, throwing the scarf over Anthony’s head. He caught it before it flew behind him. “Hell no. I’m not gunna walk myself into _that_ disaster.”  
  
“C’mon,” Anthony whined, “My cousin’s that _that_ bad.”  
  
“Not _that_ bad?” Ian said in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? She stalked me all the way home!”  
  
“She was coming to drop off things for my trip.”  
  
“Then she had the nerve to come into my room and –“  
  
“I told her I left my laptop in your room and she went to get it.”  
  
“And she wanted to look in my closet—“  
  
“—to try and find her scarf.”  
  
Ian looked at Anthony with narrow eyes. “Shut up, Anthony. Whose side are you on?”  
  
He shrugged and zipped up his bag again. He held the scarf in his hand. The line was steadily disappearing and the time to say good-bye and have a safe trip was coming up at an awkward, too-fast pace.  
  
“So,” Ian started, sticking his hands into his pockets. He was afraid he might grab Anthony’s bag and run off, laughing like a hyena stealing meat from a lion. He was going to be so lonely for the next two months.  
  
This really sucked.  
  
“You got the keys?” Anthony asked, readjusting the bag on his hip. The scarf dangled loosely near his elbow.  
  
“Yes, dad,” Ian replied and took them out of his pocket, jingling them in midair between them. Anthony rolled his eyes.  
  
“Good. Don’t want you locked out of the house for two months.”  
  
“I’m not stupid, Ant,” Ian bit back at the smirk plastered proudly on Anthony’s lips.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Anthony teased and pinched Ian’s shoulder, earning him a yelp of pain. He patted the spot and Ian knew Anthony had to go, his pained face turning into a frown. “Okay, man, I better get going.”  
  
Ian nodded. “Alright,” he said solemnly, bouncing on his heels and wondering what in the world was he supposed to do with two months of nothing. Editing, playing Xbox and staring at Charlie’s cage didn’t seem very appealing if it meant he would be alone the whole time.  
  
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Anthony warned and pulled Ian into a one-armed hug, clapping him firmly on the back.  
  
“You too,” Ian replied into his ear, smelling the citrus shampoo they shared in Anthony’s neck. He suddenly had the urge to go home and take the bottle and just sit and smell it all day long. He laughed mentally at the thought, banishing it away when they pulled apart.  
  
They smiled at each other, Anthony’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing firmly before going back to his side, his fingers grazing briefly Ian’s forearm. He was already missing his friend as Anthony turned around, dragging his duffle and himself towards the waiting attendant.  
  
Ian frowned, his heart dropping and slowing as if he was dying. And maybe he was a little because he knew he would absolutely diminish spending the next few weeks alone. He let out a long sigh, hoping to get his chest to move again as he watched Anthony talk to the attendant.  
  
Just then, when it looked like everything was settled and Anthony would head into the gate, his friend turned around. The flight attendant nodded, seeming to allow Anthony to go ahead and talk to Ian.  
  
“What’s up? Something wrong?” Ian called. There was a little jump-start in his body, wishing and thinking that maybe Anthony wasn’t going after all. He let himself smile at the thought.  
  
Anthony shook his head, walking towards him with a crooked smile. Ian met him halfway, interested at what Anthony wanted so close to the time of his flight. He cocked his head in question as they met, so ready to just take Anthony’s arm and head on over back home.  
  
But before Ian could voice his question again, the blue scarf was wrapped over his face and he scrunched his eyes closed, surprised at the unexpected assault. Anthony was laughing and batted away Ian’s hands when he made to grab his friend.  
  
“What the hell, Anthony?” Ian glared through the silk.  
  
“Give it to Leslie, alright?” Anthony said, adjusting the atrocious garment around Ian’s neck. He leaned in close, smirk so smug that Ian wanted to slap the offending expression off his face.  
  
“I don’t wanna,” Ian whined and tugged but Anthony again grabbed Ian’s hands in his. “Anthony!”  
  
“Just do it, you big baby,” Anthony huffed, keeping his laughter inside as they struggled against each other. Ian probably looked ridiculous; red faced and wearing a girly scarf, fighting with his best friend.  
  
Finally Ian relented, smiling in defeat. “Fine,” he said exasperated, “I’ll give it to the crazy lady.”  
  
“That’s a good boy,” Anthony nodded and laughed, patting down Ian’s mused hair as Ian grimaced. “Okay, gotta go now, bro.”  
  
And Anthony gave him another hug, this time with both arms with the duffle swinging off to the side and hitting Ian’s hip too hard.  
  
“I’ll miss you,” Anthony whispered teasingly, so soft and light into Ian’s ear that Ian thought he hadn’t heard it. Because it registered after, _much_ after Ian felt a warmth press deep into the side of his cheek: moist lips and a fresh shaven chin.  
  
_What the fuck?_  
  
And Anthony practically ran from him, looking briefly at Ian’s surprised face with a look of glee and mischievous mirth before turning quickly back to the boarding gate.  
  
At the last second, with Ian’s vision still swimming and his face heating up with fire, the skin that was touched tingling and aching, Anthony turned around and flashed him a toothy grin at the door.  
  
“Bye, Ian!” he called too happily, waving and almost _dancing_ away out of sight as the flight attendant closed the door.  
  
Ian just stood there for a few seconds; his ear filled with the thumping of his heart and the skin on his cheek burning and pulsating with the ghostly feel of Anthony’s lips. He frowned, tentatively touching the spot where Anthony… where Anthony had… _kissed_ him.  
  
“What the hell was that for?” Ian wondered aloud, only _slightly_ grossed out when he snapped himself out of his confused daze.  
  
What a _weird_ thing to do, Ian thought. But he guessed it was okay as he shrugged and started to make his way out of the airport. He guessed Anthony was just messing with him and Ian also guessed it had made him feel a _bit_ better. Only a little bit.  
  
Not that he _liked_ the kiss in particular.  
  
He’d never admit to _that_.  
  
It just made Ian feel good that Anthony was going to miss him. And as Ian took the escalator down to the main floor, he smiled, feeling goofy and optimistic about the coming lonely two months.  
  
“Nice scarf,” someone commented sarcastically on the escalator going up.  
  
Ian turned red and ripped the blue silk off his neck, stuffing it under his arm.  
  
“Damnit, Padilla,” Ian growled quietly, thoughts of revenge swimming in his head.  
  
Already, he could not _wait_ for Anthony to come back home.  



End file.
